


Delavir Ishaor

by Mayonayys



Series: Two Elves Walk Into A Bar [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguing, Childhood, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish life, Friendship, Gen, Herding Animals, Making Up, No Romance, Strong Bonds, other OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 14:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayonayys/pseuds/Mayonayys
Summary: One-Shot of a childhood moment between Miralha and Pelvera.Miralha has been helping the clan herd ram for a few years and Pelvera is finally of the age where she needs to help out more. Keeper Mirhen thinks Pelvera would do best out helping her best friend.Things don't go as well as expected...





	Delavir Ishaor

**Author's Note:**

> Title Meaning: Stupid Ram
> 
> My first Dragon Age work!  
> Myself and @kertbert have been working on Pelvera and Miralha for some time. Kert has written a small piece about them and this is my first time writing about the pair.  
> This is technically a prompt fill.  
> “What do you mean he’s/she’s escaped?”
> 
> My glossary and links to sources are at the end notes :D  
> Mild-Warning, there is some cursing in the translation of one of the words!

The summer was ending and autumn was approaching ever faster in the Hinterlands. Today, the morning sun shone down brightly in an open field, where the wind swayed the overgrown grass, and a few rams grazed about lazily.

_ “Shem’el, Pelvera!”  _

A harsh whisper was heard and suddenly a small Dalish girl bounded from behind a bush, a look of concentration creasing her brow. She wielded a thin stick, and with great agility, rushed out towards one of the grazing rams.

As the girl bounded towards the animal, her thick braid bouncing behind her, the ram looked from its bright patch of grass. His slow blinking eyes landed on the girl, but he did not move, just continued to lazily chew the grass in his mouth.

The girl shouted a few times at the ram, but he did not budge, and the girl came to stand a few broad paces away from him. Her shoulders were squared, but the stick she carried hung limply beside her. Her head whipped around to look back to where she emerged from the bush.

_ "Felasil _ , Miralha. He doesn’t even know what is happening.” The girl spoke, waving her stick out beside her wildly, a deep set frown on her freckled face.

Upon her speaking, another young girl popped up from behind the bush. This girl, Miralha, looked a little older, but would still be considered a child by most.

Miralha bit her lip to stifle a laugh, “He’s just not afraid of you,  _ falon.” _ As soon as a new voice caught the rams attention, he stood tall, wide eyes landing on Miralha. He froze for a second before bolting away.

The girl closest to the ram jumped slightly, her mouth coming open in shock.

“Chase him, Pelvera,  _ Shem’el.” _ Miralha began to run out into the field, her own stick in hand. “Towards the pen!”

With only a little more trouble, the two finally herded the ram into the pen. 

Miralha closed the pen, letting out a loud sigh,  _ “Tamahn…”  _ She secured the pen gate with by looping a piece of rope around it and the fence post. Giving the gate a small test tug, she turned and grinned at Pelvera. “Now that you’ve seen how its done, let’s do it again.”

* * *

Just two hours later and Pelvera stood on the far side of the field, face red from the heat as she huffed out a breath. “I can’t do this any longer,” she said with frustration, tossing her stick down in between herself and a rather irked looking Miralha.

“Fine.” Miralha spoke through gritted teeth. “Guard the pen then. Help me by opening and closing the gate when I herd one over.” 

For some reason, the ram were not threatened by Pelvera. Miralha did not understand why. The girl was small, but Miralha has been doing this job when she was the same size as well. Pelvera was also not particularly calming to be around. The girl’s blunt, deadpan attitude often made even the wisest and calmest of their clan frustrated with her.

Pelvera shrugged,  _ “Nehn, _ I saw some plants I need to log in my journal, so this is okay with me.” Despite her mostly flat tone, Miralha could see the faintest of smile on the younger girls face.

* * *

Hours passed, the sun was now high in the sky and Pelvera sat near the ram pen, her hands busy scribbling away in a tiny leather bound journal. A few herbs and flowers rest on her thigh and she kept looking from them to her book, taking notes in nearly illegible writing.

_ “Fenedhis,  _ what happened!” A gasp and shout brought Pelvera from her trance like state.

Miralha made her way quickly to stand a few paces from Pelvera. Her face was sunstruck and beads of sweat run down her brow. Miralha’s long, unbound hair stuck up in many directions and clung to her face and neck.

The girl was obviously mad, and her fiery gaze was directed at Pelvera. “What happened, Pelvera?” 

Pelvera’s brow furrowed a bit, she even tilted her head to the side slightly in confusion. Then her eyes flickered towards the pen she sat by, guarding. She let out a small, ‘hmm’, then shrugged.

“They looked very sad being trapped. I let the gate open so they didn’t feel closed in… I suppose…” Her eyes flickered up to Miralha’s ever reddening face, “they escaped.”

Pelvera didn’t even flinch when Miralha let out a yell, “What do you mean they escaped?!”

The young girl’s yell was so loud, that the birds in nearby trees squawked, some flying away.

Pelvera’s face was unchanging, “it’s not a big deal. This wasn’t a very important task.”

Miralha face seemed to turn a shade redder, her nose scrunched as she was about to let out another yell of frustration. Instead, she wiped her head to the side, looking away from Pelvera. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from shouting at the other girl, nearly hard enough to break the skin.

Pelvera stared up at her friend, studying her closely, her brow creasing. Miralha’s spirit was an easily sparked flame, like striking flint over dried grass. The smallest of things brought it to life and this was both a blessing and a curse. She could tell that Miralha was mad, so mad she wasn’t even yelling.

Before Pelvera could open her mouth again to speak, Miralha turned away, stomping back towards the camp.

Pelvera let out a heavy sigh and cast her gaze to the empty pen, then out into the field. She frowned, the ram were all still rather close by, but it would still take a rather long time for them to be herded back.

She stood firm in her belief that the task was rather unimportant, but the way Miralha had looked at her made her chest ache.

Pelvera clenched her fists, closed her eyes, and let out a small breath. She then slipped the herbs and flowers in between pages in her journal and bound it up, standing and shoving the book into her hip pouch.

She didn’t know how exactly, but she would make Miralha feel better and not be mad at her. She really didn’t enjoy the thought of Miralha being mad at her for long…

* * *

The sun had set nearly thirty minutes ago. Miralha had spent the time since she returned to the camp speaking with Fenlan.

Miralha and the older male sat silently now in the camp, both looking off at the others of the clan who were getting the fires ready and beginning to cook the meals for the clan.

She pulled at her fingers as she sat silently, trying to stop herself from fidgeting, but only getting frustrated with herself and fidgeting more.

Fenlan started her when he reached over and placed a soft hand over her own. “ _ Da’lath’in, _ you are fine now.” He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze, “it is okay to be mad, you worked hard, but it is fine now and you must let it go to feel okay.”

Miralha chewed at her bottom lip, it wasn’t so easy for her to just let the anger go. Of course she had the right to be mad after her hard work was spoiled, but the way Pelvera acted as if it did not matter is what got to her the most. 

She was made to feel useless and as if her efforts did not mean anything to the clan, or to Pelvera for that matter. To have such a feeling caused by the one she cared for the most was hurtful, but all she could summon that as was rage.

She took another deep breath as Fenlan spoke again.

_ “Nuva dirthalas verema mar sildear. _ ” With that, Fenlan stood from his seat, giving Miralha one last nod of acknowledgement and going off to do his duties.

Miralha sat for a moment longer, closing her eyes, and trying to make calm overcome her. A few deep breaths later and she stood.

Since she had been back, she had not seen Pelvera at all and now that her mind fixed on that, she began to feel worry in her chest.

Still, she took deep breaths and calmed herself, making her way to Keeper Mirhen to ask if anyone had seen the young mage girl.

“Hmm,” Mirhen thought, “I believe she was seen out doing the task she was set to do,  _ da’lin…” _ She gave a knowing smile to Miralha, “so, there is no need to fret.”

Miralha’s furrowed her brow, but understood what the Keeper spoke of.

So, she did not worry, and went to speak with the First to ask for a favor...

* * *

Pelvera’s limbs felt heavy and she felt her stomach growl loudly as she finally made her way back to the camp. The slight breeze that blew through the grove was comforting on her sunstruck skin and she let out a sigh of relief when she was just a few more meters away from her tent.

She was very hungry, but mostly her legs just ached to be given rest. A few more broad steps… She pulled back the flap to her tent, her pile of covers just as she left them that morning. She let out a heavy breath and collapsed into the mass of quilt and furs.

Closing her eyes, she relaxed for a moment, her legs and feet beginning to tingle, as if they were thanking her for the rest she was giving them. Finally, she rolled herself over onto her back and as she did, she noticed a small piece of parchment and the bloom of crystal grace.

_ “Ma vhen'an” _

End

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these words may be used completely incorrectly, but I am just working with what I have, and with the amount of time I have to research how exactly this language works.
> 
> Glossary:
> 
> shem'el adj. adv. quicker, faster, with more haste  
> felasil n. fool, idiot, lit. slow mind  
> falon n. friend, guide; Note that the Elves do not use the word 'falon' for anyone but true friends, unlike many other languages that use 'friend' to describe even well-known acquaintances.  
> tamahn adj. adv. int. n. there  
> nehn n. joy, great happiness, ecstasy  
> Fenedhis int. a common curse word. While the literal translation would essentially be "Wolf Cock" the use as a curse word in the language is similar to "Shit," "Fuck," or "God Damn"  
> Da’lath’in: little heart. An endearment used to describe someone who is emotional, carries their heart on their sleeve, is very empathetic, or very sympathetic to the plights of others. Typically used to describe a young person, but can be used for people of all ages who meet the description.  
> da'lin n. nt. child, young person  
> Ma vhen'an: I love you
> 
> Nuva dirthalas verema mar sildear So, this is a phrase I put together myself, meaning “May you learn to take hold of your emotions.” Which is probably wildly inaccurate to how the phrase would actually be.  
> -Nuva dirthalas means “May you learn”  
> -verema vb. to receive, to pick up, to take hold of  
> -mar pron. poss. sb. sg. Your  
> -sildear n. emotion, mood, attitude, character, disposition, frame of mind, lit. thought attitude
> 
> Sources:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848/chapters/8237548  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883/chapters/7825850


End file.
